Why me?
by Shadrigora
Summary: A tortured Loki finds himself in Stark Tower, with little to no explanation why. Tony is met with having to hide a wanted villain from his friends. Both are in situations that have left them to wallow in self pity, but just how long can they distract themselves until their problems come back to haunt them? Rated T to be safe. Switches between Loki and Tony's perspective. Frostiron.
1. Chapter 1

**Hiya, guys! This is my first frostiron fanfiction, so PLEASE be nice. I appreciate it! I know the first chapter's pretty short, but the other ones are gonna be longer, I assure you. Sorry if any of it's a bit OOC in advance. It's not very easy, speaking from the perspective of Loki all the time. But that's the way I started writing it, so I guess I have to follow through. XD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, just the ideas behind the story. **

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I struggled to stand on my own two feet, grasping the nearest furniture item I could find to steady myself. I had the strongest desire to feel rage at what had been done to me, yet all I could feel was terror. My hand reached up to slide through my hair, which was now far past its usual state of growth. I would focus on the aching wounds that wracked my body with every breath at another time. The first order of business was to find out where, exactly, I had landed. With what I could make out with the blur covering my vision, I realized that my surroundings rung somewhat familiar to me. I couldn't quite place it in my memory, and the terror made way for a slight amount of frustration.

That was more like it.

I grimaced and forced myself away from what felt to be a table and stumbled my way through the odd room. It must have belonged to a Midgardian. Asgardian's had no such need for any of what my fingertips had brushed over. My head snapped up, and my wearied eyes widened to where the chilled air itched their surfaces. There was a blur of a man standing before me, his chest aglow with a kind of glorious blue power. My knees had finally decided to betray me, and I collided against the large pane of glass beside me.

I prayed to the filthy Odin himself that it wouldn't break, for fear of it being a window through which I would shoot forth into my imminent death. Thankfully, fate had granted me this one kindness, and I simply slid to the floor, leaning my pitiful, powerless body against the large wall of glass. The blur came closer, and an internal battle set forth within my battered head. My arms reached out in front of me, unsure of whether to beg the being to come to my aid, or to shield myself in what defensive gesture I had left within me.

"Loki?" its voice questioned as a hand gripped my shoulder.

Fear and pain gripped at my chest with such force, I was certain I'd suffocate. My tongue was a dead, useless weight in my mouth, and I could do nothing more than hang my head, awaiting whatever other torture was about to be bestowed on me. I had not a single ally in all the nine realms, save for my mother, who I was certain had disowned me just as Odin had in my sentencing. Suddenly, I longed for her presence, even if she'd meet me with scorn. I'd endured far too much to wish for anything more than to be beside the one person who'd believed in me, through imbecilic actions and all.

As the blue energy came closer, my lips tried to pull apart to beg it to stop. They immediately ceased this and pressed into a thin line as pain shot through the skin of my face. My shaking hands felt for what had restricted my movements, and skin met thick cable, sewn intricately to keep my mouth sealed.

I felt my body quiver pathetically, thankful that I was saved from begging, no matter how morbid the reason. A god did not beg to a mortal, and I was certain that I undoubtedly would have. But what kind of mortal had such intimidating magic pulsating through its chest? This thought had crossed my mind in a faded heap of words as my body slumped forward. I felt the arms of the odd, blue magic-wielding Midgardian encircle me as my vision gave out to very welcoming black.

* * *

When I'd awoken, it was a very slow, painful process. My senses grasped awareness before my eyes had even opened. I felt complete dread clench within my stomach as I realized that death had yet to take me. There had been an obnoxious, continuous snipping noise a mere inch from my face, and it forced a dull ringing to pound through my ears. I finally obtained the courage needed to open my eyes, and they were met with the white-hot sting from the lights overhead. I blinked heavily and welcomed the unexpected moisture that had begun to collect in a protective blur, blanketing my vision from such harsh impact.

As my eyes shifted to stare straight ahead, I was met with a sight I would have happily gone without.

The familiar blurred figure from before, though more of a man than a blur at this time, was crouched before me, his face strained in focus. An odd Midgardian tool was clutched tightly in his hand, and he was making quick work at snapping it against my mouth.

Oh, yes. I'd almost forgotten.

As his face came into focus, I jerked my head back, crying out in pain as my lip had been nearly ripped in two. My reflexes had apparently disregarded the Midgardian device that was clamped tightly against an unbroken stitch of cable. The sharp sensation had caught me off guard, and my mouth pulled apart in agony, prying my lips from each other whether they were fastened or not. My hands flew to my mouth and I let out a sharp hiss, feeling the wetness of my own blood seep through my trembling fingers.

"Oh shit! Hey, I wasn't finished with those yet." I heard the man say as I glared at him through watery eyes. His tone hinted towards being pulled out of his own little world at my actions. What a luxury that must have been. To enter a reality created by himself at his own leisure. Not at all created to escape the endless torture and darkness met each day when awakened. The disgust had nearly been enough to render me ill.

His eyes became frantic as he reached beside himself and retrieved a cloth, tearing my hands away from my self-mutilation and shoving it in their place. It quickly seeped scarlet with fresh blood.

"Just hold that there, Frosty. I didn't expect you to wake up that fast. Thought it'd take at least another hour. How're you feeling?" he asked as he carefully pulled away a bit of the cloth to pick away at the shards of cable protruding from my lips. I had prepared the words to say before feeling him press the bloodied cloth harder.

"Don't answer that." he ordered. My eyes narrowed further. Was he aware of who he'd been dealing with? Regardless of the stubborn irritation his demands had caused me, I crossed my arms over my chest and sat in silence as he worked at the stitching.

As if the infernal snipping hadn't been enough of a nuisance on my throbbing head, an obnoxious static that could have been considered music, had it not been the frequency of a buzzing, Midgardian insect, was blasting from odd contraptions settled in the man's ears. I was fairly certain that I was not supposed to hear it, which made the situation all the more infuriating. All I wished for was to bandage the torn skin and sit alone in silence, which was not an option for this man. He simply would not keep his mouth shut.

"So Pointbreak doesn't have the kind of heart to have at his little brother like this, so this has to be someone else's little arts and craft project, I'm guessing." he rambled in a mutter with another snip. This seemed to be his way of maintaining composure.

I knew this man, and I was sure that the moment he'd tended to my injuries, he would have me taken back to Asgard. I forced my chest to lessen its tension as I'd made myself accept this. Perhaps I would at last die and free myself of my misery. At this point, his voice was far more grating than the sharp sting of cloth against my mangled flesh. I soon realized that the annoyance had been slowly taking my mind off the agony, and I could almost begin to recognize a small amount of gratitude.

"How'd you even get here anyway? No, wait. Don't answer that, either. I'm just talking for the sake of talking. You're gonna have to explain all of this eventually, anyway. It can wait until I've fixed you up." he continued as he snipped and picked away the last stitch.

By the Norns...I would pay this man any amount of currency he desired if he ceased his babbling.

I slapped his hand away and watched his eyes widen in shock. I was immediately sorry for using such effort to conjure the strength to do so as my shoulder surged with pain. I doubled over and snatched up the cloth, pressing it back against my mouth.

"Stark." I spat into the cloth, adding a brighter red to the drying blood. My speech had been restricted as my lips were numb and throbbing, unwilling to cooperate with any words I wished to form. The bitterness swelling in my lungs had mixed with a constant, ever-growing panic, and I had been struggling to maintain my defenses. This alone made my words carry far more meaning as a mere Midgardian had finally seen me for what I was: afraid.

"Kill me." I hissed.

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**If you like the story so far, please favorite and review! It fuels my urge to write more! Pretty please! I'll have the new chapter up soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well geez...this one's even shorter than the last one, but at least I put it up fairly quick. Thanks for all the people who've been favoriting, it means a ton!**

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"What?" Stark asked. His tone was heavily laced with confusion, though his eyes had carried an emotion that I had never seen before in another being in all the nine realms...understanding.

"Alright, look. You've obviously been through some shit. Just let me fix you up to where you don't look like a Mythbuster's crash dummy, and we'll figure something out." he offered.

My eyes narrowed, and I forced myself to gather what pride I had left, not bothering with his silly Midgardian references. I lifted myself out of my chair, my body being a weight that my strength was not yet prepared to handle. I managed to remain standing, though my frame had been listing dangerously to one side.

"Just what sort of imbecile do you take me for, Man of Iron?" I hissed, forcing my back out of its slouch and into what was only a poor shadow of my usual posture. "You shall not make a fool of me. I know your reason for coming to my aid. SHIELD will need me in one piece, will they not? Perhaps you'll send Thor to come for me and send me off to where I belong." I nearly choked on my words, swallowing the heavy taste of copper with each sentence.

Stark set his tools to the side and brushed his bloodied hands against his clothes. He was dressed for formal occasion. The only preparation he'd bothered doing in assisting me was rolling up his shirt's sleeves. I was certain that a man with such expected hatred of me would have at least taken the time to change into more suitable garments.

Stark's eyes narrowed in confusion before nodding in thought. "Jarvis." he called out. My eyes widened in terror. We were the only two beings in the room. When the voice in the walls answered, I'd nearly fallen over when I'd realized how wrong I'd been.

"Yes, Sir?" the voice in the walls answered. It's voice was was nowhere near as painful to take in as Stark's.

"Is the guest room decent enough for company?" Stark added. My eyes widened, and I felt my knees buckle beneath me. I clung to the wall, not daring to fall before a man who'd already defeated me once before.

"A few adjustments need to be made. Aside from that, you'll find that the guest room has been well kept." the voice in the walls answered.

"Thanks, Jarvis. Make sure those adjustments are made in the next few minutes. Can you do that?" Stark asked.

"Of course, Sir." the voice assured him. When nothing more was said, Stark turned to face me.

"Alright, first of all, you look like they've had their fun with you already. You probably learned your lesson by now. Make no mistake, I've got my security activated to heights they've never seen before. If you try anything, yeah. SHIELD will be here before you can say 'kneel' in that cute little accent of yours." Stark's warning seemed as though he were trying to intimidate me, though something had been keeping his tone from reaching its full capacity. Despite the lack of venom, my body still pulled back into a cringe.

Stark let out a heavy sigh and took a step forward, as though approaching a frightened animal. With all self hatred I had within me, I realized that I likely held many similarities to one.

"Look, as long as you don't try anything suspicious like you did back there with your world domination act, you'll be fine. I won't turn you in, not like this. You've had enough." he promised. By the look on his face and the sorrowful tone in his words, I knew it was truth.

I felt a prickling against my eyes as unwelcomed tears threatened to expose me for the sorry weakling I was. My pride had given way completely as my weakened state took over. My legs had finally given out beneath me, and I fell to my knees.

"You'd...allow me a place in your home? I'd killed hundreds of your own kind...I'm..." I began, feeling one dreaded tear after the other fall to mix with blood.

My eyes lowered in shame as Stark descended to my level, something I would have never expected of him. If I were him, faced with a loathed villain groveling at his feet with all vulnerability exposed for him to grip at, I would have reveled in it. I would have looked down upon him.

"Yeah, well...I've got my own demons to battle. We all do." Stark said as he ran his hand through his hair, slick with sweat from what events had occurred moments before. "If you're willing to change yourself for the better, who the hell cares about what you did before? I don't. I don't even know if what you've gone through's changed you any, but I'm willing to at least wait and see." he finished, the normal warmth in his eyes dulled and swimming with secrets that I was certain had been pushing him towards this decision.

"Don't make me regret this." he muttered.

The will to answer him had died in an instant. I had been offered safety, and the panic settled in my heart had disintegrated. The sensation was far too overwhelming to comprehend, and I heaved forward into a sob, clinging to the man who had shown more mercy towards me than any being who had claimed to be of my own family.

"Do not let them take me again." I whispered into the fabric against the dulled glow of sapphire in the center of his chest. "I cannot bare a second more of it. I'm...ruined, Stark. They have destroyed me." I sobbed, my words barely comprehensible as my tears dampened the skin of his neck.

My pride no longer mattered at that time. He'd given me the assurance I so desperately needed in my captivity, and little else held any importance. Just once, I needed someone to see just how much I'd fought to endure. I wasn't certain as to why I'd done so to a mere mortal, but at this point, I couldn't find reason enough to care.

I let out a sharp gasp as I felt Stark's arms slowly pull me into an embrace. It flooded my chilled body with a warmth I'd not felt in ages. It were as though he'd caged me away from all things seeking to do me harm. A small thought came to mind at how much more pleasant it was than Thor's unforgiving, bone-shattering attempts at an embrace. I'd swear, each one had hidden intent on killing the very being in his arms.

"I've gotcha, Loki. You're safe in my tower. SHIELD and Pointbreak can't get in unless I let them." Stark muttered, his words carefully chosen as though wondering whether or not they would effectively bring me comfort.

It was far more than enough.

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**Leave me some reviews? Pretty please? I'd love to hear what you guys think! Chapter three will be up tomorrow!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Alright, here we are. Jarvis did a pretty good job, as usual. Bed's made, bathroom seems usable. You should've seen it before Jarv had it fixed. Trust me, it's better." Stark assured me, likely in response to how wary I was in taking in my surroundings. There were questions that needed to be answered before I even sought after the idea of resting in that room.

I battled against the aching desire to throw myself at the bed awaiting me, and forced myself to interact with the mortal. "Dare I ask what caused the room to fall into disarray?" I asked, relying on the doorframe beside me for support. Stark let out an amused chuckle that had only added to my never ending questions. If someone were to destroy my property in such a way, it would not have been a fond memory to look upon.

"Well, my science bro spent the night for a collaboration on a project we were working on downstairs. I guess he got a phone call that worked him up, and the other guy came out to play. He 'Hulk smashed' everything in there." I could feel the last remains of pigment slip from my face at Stark's answer. The savage green beast had been housed in the very room I was to stay in. Memories of being tossed about with little control of my own flailing limbs had washed through my mind in a violent stampede.

Stark noticed the blind terror his words had caused and he rushed over to rest a hand upon my shoulder. "Easy there, Reindeer Games. I guess I forgot about your guys's little play date from earlier." he apologized. How could he have forgotten? As we walked through the many halls of his tower, I had immediately recognized the exact spot where it had taken place. The massive crater that my body left behind was still as I'd left it. It was almost as though he'd kept it as a trophy of having defeated my intentions. The old scorn I'd felt towards the man threatened to spill forth at the notion.

I fought my stubborn nature for a brief moment and fell limp against the man standing beside me. He was far less painful than the wooden surface that had dug its way into the bruising against my ribs. Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind.

"Alright, let's sit you down before you pass out." Stark offered, leading me to the bed and sitting me down on its edge. I was rather frightened at the idea of him leaving me there. It was a childish fear, though I was almost certain that the instant the door shut behind him, I would be swiped away by my former captors.

My head dropped to where my posture nearly settled it in my lap, and I let out a deep breath as I tried to calm my new feelings of absolute terror. "And what of the voice in the walls? You call him Jarvis...what relevance does he hold in your home?" I asked.

"Oh, Jarv? He's my A.I. that I created." Stark explained, his eyes gleaming with a sense of pride. My eyes narrowed with skepticism.

"You create men to do your bidding?" I asked. The mortal let out a chuckle and shook his head.

"I guess you can say that, sure. He's not really a man, though. He just acts like one...I get why you'd think that." he said. "He's a computer system."

The more attempts at explaining he offered me, the more lost I had become.

"So you're a wielder of magic?" I asked. It was the only logical explanation I could manage.

"Nope. Science." Stark corrected. I could feel my face rise in temperature as my frustrations took hold.

"I hardly see the difference." I grumbled under my breath.

"Oh there's a huge difference, trust me. Science requires formulas, theory, hard work...years of hard work." Stark explained. I was insulted, and it wasn't just at his blatant ignorance at just how much difficulty was met in learning how to use my magic. Somewhere, I'd felt an excitement at the possibility of meeting a fellow user of magic. It was not common, and I was found weak by Asgardian standards.

"I will not even begin to explain the time it takes to train oneself in magic, Stark. Perhaps it's not as different as you claim it to be." I objected. Stark simply shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

"Well maybe we can let each other in on how the other works sometime when you're not about to die of exhaustion and mental trauma." Stark suggested. My sore and tortured lips fought to twitch into a small smirk. "Perhaps." I answered.

"Cool. Well, if you need anything, I'll be down in my lab, tinkering around. If you're too afraid of getting lost-" I cut him off with a huff of breath. "I shall not get lost." I argued.

"Hey, I'm not calling you stupid or anything. I'm just saying, the halls get dark. I've had to back track a couple times myself." he explained. He must have been truly desperate to reassure me if he was willing to admit his fault in direction in his own tower.

"Anyway, if you don't want to leave your room, Jarvis will be more than happy to help." he finished as he absentmindedly picked away flakes of drying blood from his nails.

"I have no need for your pitiful little creation." I said. I could see the thinning patience flicker in his eyes.

"Alright, your call. Get some sleep, and we'll talk tomorrow." he said as he made his way towards he door. I lept up and swallowed the yelp that wished to escape at the sudden jolt of motion. I would not have the light shut off for me as though I were a child. I bid him good night and shut the door behind him, switching off the light and stumbling blindly for the bed I'd left.

I'd almost fallen asleep the moment I'd crawled beneath the covers. A bed was a luxury that had been foreign to me for quite a long time. I sighed as the soft fabric caressed the bruising and the bandaging that Stark had tied around my many injuries before bringing me to my room.

_"I know you probably don't want me to touch you, but those sheets are pretty expensive. It'd be kind of a pain if you bled all over them." _his voice slipped to the front of my memory. Even in my thoughts, his tone still assured me that it was all in jest...likely to ease the uncomfortable nature of the situation for the both of us.

I let my eyes close and made it a point not to let my lips touch the pillow as my body shut down for a much needed rest.

* * *

"Bruce, hey. Do you have a second?"

I waited while my buddy on the other end of the line woke up enough to answer me. I almost felt bad for waking the guy up, but this couldn't wait.

"Tony?" he asked. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. No one else calls me this late." he mumbled. I pressed the phone to my ear as close as I could. The guy's quiet enough as it is. That, combined with his drowsy slurring, was like trying to listen to Ozzy talk through a jet engine. What'd just happened was a pretty big deal, and I'd take what I could get.

"Yeah, it's me. I have a few questions, mind helping me out?" I asked, putting my nervous need to move around to good use and picking up my tools I'd used on Frosty earlier.

"At three in the morning, Tony?" Bruce asked. I rolled my eyes and ran the tools under some water. When the blood wouldn't budge, I shrugged and dumped them in the sink. I didn't have the patience for that.

"Well...yeah. I mean, you're okay with that, right?" I asked. I could already tell that this was going to be a pain in the ass. There were some things I just couldn't tell the guy. Half of New York would be gone in a matter of hours, and I wasn't willing to explain that to SHIELD.

"Depends on the nature of what you're about to ask me." Bruce mumbled. I shoved a hand in my pocket and let my eyes wander the ceiling._ So I let a power hungry god chill in my tower for however long he wants, but he's been tortured to a complete shell of his former self, so it's cool right? _

No, Tony. Not okay. I'd have to play this off to where Loki wasn't a part of it, or SHIELD would be at my front door in minutes. As much as I trusted the guy, I wasn't so sure he would take the news so well. I would be able to cut Loki out of the equation, easily. I just hoped that I wouldn't sound like a complete idiot doing it.

"Okay, so...say someone's mouth was sewn shut." I started.

"Tony." Bruce warned. I sighed and closed my eyes. Alright, so the idiot thing was out the window. I'd gone way too far. There was no backing out after that.

"No, listen for a second. This is serious. Say someone's mouth was sewn shut...and you cut everything and clean the wounds. How do you get it to heal? Maybe the person tried opening their mouth with it and tore themselves up pretty bad. I figure bandaging someone's mouth would be a pain in the ass for them if they wanted to talk." I rambled, digging a deeper hole for myself.

"Tony, what are you talking about?" he asked. My little question seemed to wake him up, and I could hear his concern. Suddenly, I missed the sleep-drunk Ozzy I'd been talking to earlier. I was able to work with that version of Bruce...he didn't have enough energy to be suspicious.

"I'm talking about medical situations that I don't know a thing about. Pepper usually patched me up when I tore myself up crime fighting with you guys. There's some stuff I'm pretty curious about. It'd really help." At that point, I kind of wished Pepper was there. It probably wouldn't do me any good. She'd take one look at Loki and run to Patchy, just like everyone else. I mean...he was the world's most hated criminal. They wouldn't exactly be nice about it.

"Couldn't you ask Jarvis to look it up for you?" he asked.

Well shit, that would've been a good idea. As usual, I'd been too worked up to think up other options. That would have been a hell of a lot easier, and I wouldn't have to explain anything to Jarvis. Part of me probably wanted somebody to know. I was never really a man intent on keeping things to himself. I was kind of forced to learn and use that trait somewhere along the road...that didn't mean I was any good at it.

"Jarv's running some updates." I lied. I heard Bruce sigh as he sat up from wherever he'd been sleeping. Probably at his desk. When it came to his research, he was a total insomniac, just like me. It's what made us the perfect team.

"Ah." he answered. "Where'd this question come up, anyway?" I tried to swallow as I thought up an answer.

"I was watching SAW, and it occured to me." I lied again. Man, this was getting old. I'd have to apologize to him later when this was all sorted out.

"You don't even like that series." I heard the accusation in that drowsy tone of his, and I didn't like it.

"Yeah, but the stuff he's got rigged up is pretty interesting." At least that bit was true. The way the traps were engineered gave me some pretty genius ideas for designs. "Look, we're seriously getting off track here. Can you help me out?" I asked.

"You'll need something to hold the skin together, and some antiseptic. Just...medical common sense, Tony. You'd need to keep an eye on it and keep it clean, but otherwise, that's it." he explained. I was losing him, I could tell. I snatched up a blue print and scribbled his advice on the back.

"You're the best, buddy. Try to get in an actual bed before checking out again, alright?" I suggested, grateful that he entertained me with an actual answer instead of the usual song and dance of 'Tony, you're drunk'.

"Sure." I heard him grumble before the line went dead.

"Jarvis." I called out as I shoved the phone in my pocket.

"Still awake, Sir?" he asked.

"Don't start with me. I already got that same talk from Bruce." I warned. As usual, Jarvis was quick to respond. He was pretty flawless. I could see why Frosty'd think he was fabricated by magic.

"Of course, Sir. Terribly sorry. Ms. Potts had made it of great importance that I remind you of your lack of sleep when updating me last." he apologized. Suddenly, any optimistic feelings I had left plummeted into absolute depression. How long ago was that? Probably way too long, and I wasn't about to ask Jarvis. That kind of thing needed to stay in the past, just like every other tragedy in my life.

"Don't worry about it. Is Loki still asleep?" I asked as I gathered the first aid from the table. I dug around inside the box and nodded in satisfaction as I found the items Bruce instructed me to use.

"It seems he is still sound asleep, Sir. Shall I wake him?" he asked. My eyes widened and I held my hand up to stop him.

"No! I need the guy to be out cold. Is there any chance he'd wake up?" I asked. I needed to be sure that the exact opposite would happen. Messing around with a traumatized god's face in the middle of the night would be hard enough of a task on its own.

"I'm sure you'll find that Mr. Laufeyson is in a complete state of rest. If you don't go through great lengths to disturb him, you should be alright." Jarvis answered.

"Thanks, Jarv." I said as I made my way up to Loki's room. I stopped as a realization hit me, and I called on Jarvis one last time.

"Jarvis."

"Yes, Sir?" he answered.

"Don't mention Pepper again." I ordered.

"My apologies, Master Stark. It shan't happen again." I felt a weight lift off my shoulders as I approached the door to Loki's room.

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**Update: Alright, first of all, I'd like to apologize with how long it's been taking me to put the next chapter up. Things've been kind of busy lately, but I assure you, I have been working on it! All I ask is your patience! Thank you, and again, terribly sorry!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Alright, here it is! I was gonna make this chapter and chapter five one big chapter, but this was a good stopping point. Again, painfully short. My apologies.**

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As much as I hate to admit it, I stood in front of that doorway longer than was probably necessary. It was my tower, my guest room, and I was Tony Fucking Stark. Genius, billionare, playboy, philanthropist...and apparently scared shitless of waking up the hopefully-not-as-deadly god at the other side of the door.

There was a voice inside of me that let me know just how bad an idea this was. I usually drowned it in large amounts of alcohol until it was just a dull buzzing in the back of my head, and then I'd deal with it when it came back to kick me in the ass later. Unfortunately, the current situation left absolutely no time for that.

The man I let stay in my tower was a mass murderer, and I almost forgot with how miserable he looked. The darker emotions that were stirred up after looking at him were old, dusty, and not at all appreciated. To be honest, it clouded my sense of judgment to where I could do nothing but help the guy out. It might be a bit hard to believe, but there's certain situations where I'm not a total selfish asshole. It makes a difference when you've been there yourself.

So the question was, did I regret my decision? After battling against myself for a few minutes, I'd decided that I didn't regret a thing. No one deserved to be treated like that. The Assgardians obviously didn't know when enough was enough, and if that was their version of just and lawful punishment, I didn't want to know what kind of tactics they used for more severe crimes.

There was also the issue of Tall, Dark, and Deadly waking up to me leaning over him. He'd just had fucking _stitches _pulled out of his face, and their choice of thread wasn't exactly the weakest I'd seen. Their idea of thread was what I used for attaching circuits and panels. Granny would be horrified to see that kind of thing at the sewing club. Pointbreak would have some serious explaining to do the next time we ran into each other.

I figured that Frosty was too magicked-out to try anything anyway, or he'd have been gone already. That didn't mean that he wasn't ten times my own strength without the suit, and willing to beat the shit out of me for giving him a heart attack. Did gods even suffer from PTSD? If they did, Frosty had it. Big time.

"Sir, I'm terribly sorry for the interruption, but you've been standing at Mr. Laufeyson's door for exactly seventeen minutes and fifty-eight seconds."

I was jerked out of my thoughts and realized just how long I'd been standing there. "Right. Yeah. Thanks, Jarv." I muttered, looking down at the door handle that my hand was still clutching. To hell with it. The itch to finish what I'd started was killing me. I'd just go in there, patch him up, and get out. Simple as that. If anything, he'd appreciate my efforts. Sure, the pillows were soft and luxurious as several hundred dollars could provide, but having an open wound scraped by fabric was the exact opposite of that. Take it from a man who's speaking from personal experience. Not comfy.

I pushed the door open, leaving it that way so that the hallway light would shine in just enough to where I could see what I was dealing with. I should have emotionally braced myself for what I was up against, because seeing him in that lighting was way worse than when we were in the lab.

He was lying flat on his back, which was good news for me, because it meant that nothing was standing in my way, but I couldn't bring myself to step forward. I was forced to stare at him and take it all in, because that's the only thing my body would let me do. I was frozen in a sort of reminiscent horror that I hoped I'd never have to experience again. It was like looking into a mirror that reflected the aftermath of the Jericho incident. It unnerved me to where I thought I'd be sick.

The light made the shadows on his skin seem darker, and the drying blood on the smaller cuts I didn't bother with appeared almost poisoned and black. His eyes were sickly and sunken in, and were squeezed way too tight to suggest anything short of complete, nightmarish hell. His lips were parted, and not in the sense of being caught in an embarrassing, drooling, open- mouthed nap. I was almost one hundred percent sure that it was fear-induced. Probably too worried that if he closed it, he wouldn't be able to open it again.

Holy shit, what was I _doing_?

I forced myself to step closer until I was directly beside him and set the first aid down on the mattress with shaking hands that I knew were going to be a problem later. While this was going on, the alarms in my head were screaming a mantra that I wished I could shut up with a couple shots of liquor.

_This is a bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea._

Yeah, it was a fucking terrible idea. And that's never stopped me before.

I grabbed the antiseptic and tried applying it to the skin of his lips, cursing under my breath when I couldn't efficiently reach. Throwing all caution out the window, I got up on the mattress next to him and shuffled closer to where I didn't have to be a contortionist to reach for him.

It was going pretty well. I'd applied the antiseptic exactly where I needed to, and Loki didn't move a single inch. The shaking in my hands was gone, and I was finally getting into the typical Tony Stark inventor zone. I reached for the medical tape and gauze to finish the job, and looked over to meet the wide, panic-stricken gaze of Loki himself.

"Oh...shit."

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**Cliffhanger...muahaha! Sorry guys. Luckily, the next chapter's almost finished and should be up either tonight or tomorrow. Thanks to all who've reviewed and followed this story, you guys are the best. Please continue to let me know what you think, I'd appreciate it a ton!**


	5. Chapter 5

Loki's body jerked up into a bone-straight sitting position, and I couldn't tell whether the screaming I heard was his, mine, or both. I dodged his fist as it flew at my face, and used pretty much every expletive in the English language as I fell off the edge of the bed and onto the floor. The top of the bed and the floor in question were pretty distant from each other, and I didn't realize just how much until I felt the impact.

"Son of a bitch!" I hissed as I struggled to get up. I was too busy trying to regain the wind that was knocked out of me to notice that the screaming never stopped. When I finally managed to look over at Loki again, I'd realized just how much of a fuck up I was.

Loki was clutching his chest like letting go would kill him, and his frame was curled into itself in a way that made me wince just looking a him. The louder he screamed, the hoarser he became. He wouldn't have a voice if he kept it up. I felt the terror sink in as I remembered what made that scream so familiar. I jumped on the bed and grabbed him by the shoulders, which seemed to trigger a sharp enough pain to snap him out of it. That wasn't the plan, but it worked.

"Loki, I...damn it. I'm sorry, that was stupid. Can you hear me? Are you in there?" I asked, feeling my stomach churn as he slowly sat up from his awkward self-defense method and looked me in the eyes. They were watery, faraway, and had a mix between being scared out of his mind, and being violently pissed off. I couldn't tell which was worse.

"What..." he rasped. "...in Hel's name...did you seek to accomplish in looming over me as though you were the very shadow of Death itself." his voice was forced, hurried, and noticeably out of breath.

"I was patching you up so you wouldn't maul yourself worse in your sleep." I explained, feeling like the asshole I'd been accused of being my whole life.

"Couldn't it have waited until I was awake and able to comprehend your intentions?" he asked, his eyes narrowed and pained. There it was. The same question I'd been asking myself all night, slapping me in the face.

"I'm not a patient man." I admitted.

"I gathered that." he answered, letting himself slump miserably against the headboard of the bed. He looked worse than when he'd come in, and I was completely responsible. As usual, I was a failure.

"Had I the magic needed to do so, you would not be sitting before me as you are now. Were anything left, none would recognize it as you." he spat, angrily. Well, that answered one of my questions. In a very homicidal, unsettling way. Thankfully, he was in no position for me to be taking that kind of thing seriously. I was running off adrenaline, which was fading fast into the sleep deprivation I usually avoided. I was way too exhausted for this.

"News flash, Princess. If you so much as sprained something of mine, your ass would be handed to you by the rest of the team. I'm trying to help you out here, because I know what it's like. I get how it feels to have someone torture you to absolutely nothing. But I never gave the people trying to help me the kind of shit you're giving me. It's getting old. Fast." I shot back, leaning back in satisfaction as his expression began to show some form of regret.

"...You startled me. I was certain I'd been met by my captors." he whispered, and the snark I'd been preparing for him was stored away for another time. "It was not my intention to seem ungrateful to you, Man of Iron. I was merely forced into the one defensive nature I currently possess."

That was some shocking honesty that I didn't expect from the renowned lie-smith. "Hey, it's fine. It's my fault for barging in on you like that." I offered, glad to see some of the tension ease out of his body at my words. I snatched up the first aid and eyed him with caution. "Look, we're both fried as far as energy goes. Can we just cut the arguing so I can finish what I started?" I asked. The god nodded and sat back, showing me that I had permission to approach him without the threat of being decked in the face.

"So, 'Man of Iron', huh? You're more like your brother than I thought." I said, not thinking about what was coming out of my mouth as I reached for my supplies. I was met with a dangerous glare.

"Watch it." I warned. Reindeer Games scowled and crossed his arms like a spoiled five-year-old, but did nothing else.

"Alright, so Pointbreak's off limits with you. Should've known that much." I spoke again, not bothering to stop my nervous, sleep deprivation-induced ramble. The god's mouth opened to answer and I swore as my hand slipped.

"Do me a favor and wait until after the nice billionare's patched you up, will you?" I grumbled, feeling lightheadedness slowly creep its way into my skull as I overworked myself. The god let out a snort and stayed put until I stuck the last bit of tape into place. "Alright, what was that?" I asked, urging him to repeat his answer. I had a feeling it'd be a good one.

"I said," The god began, experimentally moving his lips and nodding in appreciation as everything stayed put. "If it does not involve mockery at his expense, or word of his imminent demise, I wish not to hear it." he finished.

"Oh come on, give the guy a break. He's not that bad." I answered, offering a reassuring grin that probably held little value to the sulking god.

"Oh, you've no idea." Loki grimaced. "I do believe it is I that spent my life forced to grow alongside him as a sibling."

At that moment, it hit me. I worked with the guy maybe...one or two times a week. I never really had the chance to personally talk to him. Most of the time we were too busy trying not to die of blunt-force trauma, decapitation, shattered bones, blood loss...you know, the typical risks to being an Avenger.

"Guess I never thought too hard about that." I admitted as I snapped the first aid closed and dropped it on the ground next to us.

"Clearly." I heard him say as I sat up. It was nearly impossible to keep my eyes open, and being that tired had just about the same effect as being drunk in some aspects. One of which was my ability to not give a single shit about where I ended up, as long as it ended in sleep.

I flopped down on the bed beside him, making sure there was a fair, manly distance between us, and buried my face into one of the pillows. I groaned as my body settled into the luxury that was furniture actually built for people to sleep on. I'd crashed on the couch in my lab so often, I almost forgot that there were actual beds in the tower. Never again.

"Well." I muttered. "Night, Frosty."

* * *

"You can't be serious."

My voice cracked under a humiliating stutter as I watched the boundary-vacant mortal make himself at home in _my_ bed.

"You heard me." he answered, and I looked on in complete bafflement as the only motion he'd made was to sluggishly lift his head up to meet my gaze. The effort seemed weighted as though all mass in his body had traveled to his head and settled there for the night.

"Haven't you a room of your own?" I asked, finding it exceedingly difficult to mask the collective feelings of panic, uncertainty, and overall confusion that his charade had caused me.

"Yeah. It's five stories higher than where I am now, and I'm not moving. You're stuck with me 'till morning." he grumbled. I had to strain harder than was necessary to hear him, as his voice was muffled and distant.

"But I..." I started.

"This bed's big enough for five people, Snowball. Trust me. I know. You'll have plenty of space." he argued.

"And what of the other members of The Avengers? Will they not come looking for you and see you sharing a bed with Midgard's most loathed villain?" I asked, not bothering with the suspicious nature of his comment.

My question must have coaxed more energy into him, if only a little. He used what little willingness he had left to sit up, for which I was grateful. Simply watching him in a state of rest made my own aching, exhausted body yearn for the same. I was too frightened to let sleep take me again after what I'd awoken to. Thinking on this, it became increasingly difficult not to scowl at him. I might have shown appreciation in being tugged from my nightmares if it'd been done under different circumstances.

"Oh, you think they're...oh." Stark yawned, realization evident in his tone. "You think they're _here_?" he asked.

"That was my understanding, yes." I answered. "Before my sentencing, Thor mentioned attending an Avengers meeting in your tower. Was this incorrect?" I asked.

" ...No. No, you're right. This is pretty much the Avengers HQ. They're not here, though. In fact, they probably won't be for another week or two."

I couldn't handle my exhaustion any longer, and I collapsed on my back beside Stark. "I fail to see what sort of sense this makes." I muttered. "The Avengers headquarters...and no Avengers." I added, forcing myself to speak in fear of being met with silence.

"Yeah, well...I made it so Patchy would keep them at SHEILD headquarters for awhile. I kind of stretched the truth on how long my tower would be down for maintenance." he mumbled, falling back into his laying position and closing his eyes.

"I never took you for a man that intentionally avoids another's company." I said, feeling my lips twitch up in a light smile, amused at how interesting this man had proven to be in the short time we'd spoken.

"Hey, Frosty. You read a lot, don't you?" he mumbled.

"Of course."

"Ever read 'Go the Fuck to Sleep?'" he asked. I felt the sharp electricity of the guilt I'd been repressing as it coursed through my chest and stubbornly lingered there. It was not my original intention to keep him awake as I battled with my own exhaustion.

"No." I answered. My voice was a tad more hostile than I'd expected.

"I should read it to you sometime. It's good...educational." he grumbled. I felt humiliation arise as I quickly realized just what he'd been hinting at.

"My apologies, Stark." I muttered. Stark failed to answer me, and I felt the familiar chill of panic return at the silence. I waited until his breathing suggested he was undoubtedly asleep and turned over on my side to face him, assuring myself that another being was present. Not just any being, but one that had gone through great lengths to come to my aid.

While I was contemplating the idea of calling upon Stark's useless invention for company, Stark's arm reached forth and fell on top of me, as though embracing me as he slept. I jerked back and pushed the offending limb off of me, only to have it occur again moments later. After the fourth attempt, I'd given up. Stark was unconscious and persistent, and I was far too exhausted to care any longer.

As much as it pained me to admit it, it wasn't unpleasant. If anything, the need to be close to him held a great deal of importance to me at that time. He'd proven himself trustworthy, and the lack of distance between us had been more than enough to settle my frayed and tortured nerves. Even the silence itself had faded as Stark began to snore. To my surprise, it was at a decent volume, and not at all like the thunderous, obnoxious sounds that emitted from Thor's room in the night.

The sound put my mind at ease as I allowed myself to rest. Desperate for more of the comfort that our position provided, I settled closer to the mortal until I was entirely enclosed in the warmth that radiated from him. My gaze was settled on the dull glow in his chest as my eyes finally shut themselves. I would allow myself to succumb to my pitiful vulnerability, just this once.

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**Alright, so this was done a bit later than I'd expected. Sorry, guys. I'll try to do better on the time it takes to put these up, but things've been pretty fackin' busy. I thank you all for your patience, and thanks again for the favorites and reviews! You guys rock!**


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